Passing on the Legacy
by dragonflybeach
Summary: Part of Dean just wants Sam to be a regular little boy. The other part knows he has to teach Sam things regular little boys don't learn in case he ever needs those skills.


"Come on, Sammy," Dean held the door open before he lost his nerve. "I got something new to teach you."

He had been warring with himself for the past two hours on whether to take Sam along on this particular errand. Dean had learned to drive when he was Sam's age, but his little brother was still too short to see over the steering wheel and reach the pedals. And besides, Dad hadn't taught Dean how to do this until two years ago.

But then again, a hunt had gone bad two weeks ago, worse than what Dean wanted to think about, and the part of Dean whose job it was to protect Sam needed to know that the kid would be able to get to Pastor Jim or Uncle Bobby if anything bad happened.

"Where're we goin'?" Sam asked, sucking on one of the handful of peppermints he had swiped from beside the cash register at the diner last night. "I thought Dad said we were moving on soon."

"We are," Dean nodded. "He's healed up enough to be able to drive. We're leaving tonight."

"Then why aren't we packing?" Sam frowned.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude, we can pack everything we own in five minutes or less, except the weapons, and Dad said he would have them loaded when we got back."

"So where are we going?" Sam persisted.

"To get the other car." Dean answered softly, peeking into the passenger window of an Oldsmobile as they walked by.

"We're gonna steal a car?" Sam squeaked shrilly.

"Hush!" Dean looked around frantically. There didn't seem to be anyone around. "Well, it's not like the Car Fairy is just gonna leave us one."

For the past few months, just before leaving a town, John and Dean had been stealing a second car so that Dean and Sam would have transportation in an emergency if John was gone on a job.

"Why doesn't Dad just buy another car?" Sam asked.

Dean just gave him a withering look and didn't answer.

"But what if the person really needs their car?" Sam continued. "What if they don't have another way to go to work or get their kids to school?"

"The cars we steal, the owners are probably thrilled they're gone," Dean snorted. "Their insurance company buys them a new one and everyone comes out ahead."

"Do we have an insurance company?" Sam tilted his head.

"Yeah. Mutual of Uncle Bobby." Dean huffed.

"Why is Uncle Bobby our insurance company?" Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Just stop with the questions!" Dean hissed.

Sam's shoulders hunched.

"Look, you gotta pay attention if I'm gonna teach you anything." Dean sighed.

Sam sighed as well and relaxed slightly.

"Ok, the easiest cars to steal are the ones that people are actually dumb enough to leave the keys in them." They paused next to a Ford Escort and looked inside.

No keys.

Sam looked up at Dean as if expecting a punchline.

"Really," Dean nodded. "That Dodge Daytona, a couple months ago? Keys in the switch, just sure as you please." He walked around the front of the car and ran a hand around the inside of the front fender well. "A lot of times you also find these little magnetic boxes with keys inside, especially on old people cars, and especially inside the driver side front wheel well."

Not this time.

They walked a little further, and came upon a grocery store. They ventured down the first row of cars, until Dean stopped beside a Pontiac Sunbird.

"Bingo."

He opened the unlocked driver's door, signalling for Sam to go to the passenger side. Dean reached across, unlocking the door for his brother.

"Your best bet is mid-'80's to early '90's cars with the ignition on the steering column." Dean instructed. "Don't look for ones too expensive, because they're more likely to have alarms. If you have to break a window, break the back seat window, so you don't end up having to sit on a bunch of glass." He pulled a tool out of his jacket pocket. "Best thing you can use is a dent puller. This one will be in my duffle if you ever need it, or you can find one at an auto parts store. You put the screw in here," he demonstrated. "Pull on this, and ... " A loud snap filled the small car, making Sam jump."Now all you have to do is put a flat head screwdriver in here, and you just turn it like a key."

Dean inserted and turned the screwdriver, and the engine started.

"See, easy." He put the car in reverse and smoothly backed out of the parking space. "Always drive smooth and steady, unless someone's running after you screaming. Don't give the cops a reason to pull you over. You know how to call Pastor Jim or Uncle Bobby, right? If anything happens to me and Dad, you get somewhere safe, and you call one of them, and they'll come get you."

Sam nodded, rolling his eyes, having heard the same admonition more times than he could count.

Dean drove them to the drug store they had visited earlier and parked behind the building. He had taken gauze, tape, antibiotic cream, and other supplies they needed to stock the first aid kit and stuffed them into a plastic bag, which he had then shoved under a bunch of paper towels in the trash can in the men's room. "Now we just wait for one of the employees to take the trash out, and we grab the bag out of the dumpster." He explained to Sam. "Let their own people do the dirty work."

Sam had argued the point, stating that having to get something out a dumpster was pretty dirty work, but Dean reminded him that it wasn't illegal, while carrying something out of a store without paying for it was.

"I still think making other people steal for us is wrong." Sam pouted as the two of them got out of the car.

"Sam," Dean groaned. "Dad used up all the supplies, and we need more. Would you rather take the chance on going to juvie for shoplifting?"

"Why can't we just buy stuff like normal people?" Sam complained, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the dumpster.

"Because most of the people Dad helps don't have money to pay him a reward," Dean explained. "And he's not rich like Bruce Wayne so he can just afford to pay for everything himself."

Sam still scowled.

"Look," Dean shucked off his leather jacket and handed it to Sam before reaching into the dumpster. "I get what you're saying. I really do. And I wish we could just walk into the store and slap a couple twenties down to get whatever we need. It would be a lot easier. But it just doesn't work that way in our case. We have to do what we have to do, because there are people out there who need to be saved, and if Dad didn't do it, no one else would either."

Dean fished out the trash bag, sliced it open, and retrieved their first aid supplies. He handed the bag to Sam, but then reached into the dumpster again. "Oh, wait. What's this?" He pulled out a box filled with boxes of crackers, cookies, and other snacks that had either just gone out of date, or were about to go out of date. "Score!"

"You're gonna eat food out of a dumpster?" Sam recoiled in disgust.

"Dude, the packages aren't even open. We'll just wipe the boxes off." Dean grinned at him. "Besides, do you know how many times you've eaten out of a dumpster before?"

"Ew." Sam shuddered as he turned back toward the car.

"Dude," Dean's voice trailed off to an appreciative whistle.

Sam circled back around the dumpster to see what had caught his brother's attention this time.

It was a vintage Harley Davidson, black with orange flames and all the chrome. Even if motorcycles weren't Sam's thing, he had to admit that it was a beautiful bike.

Dean reverently trailed his fingers over the hand tooled leather seat and up to the custom gas tank.

"The keys are in it." he nearly gasped.

Dean's head shot up, and he looked around the narrow alley. "Sam, start walking back toward the motel. I'm going to take this back there and I'll come back for you with Dad's car."

Sam burst into tears.

"Seriously?" Dean growled and threw up his hands. "You're eleven years old!"

"You're going to leave me!" Sam blubbered.

"I'm just going to take the bike to the motel and I'll come back for you!" Dean insisted.

"No!" Sam shook his head. "You're going to ride the motorcycle and leave me with Dad!"

"He probably won't even let me keep it." Dean huffed, knowing it was true.

"But there's no place for me!" Sam whined. "One day you're just going to ride off and leave me and not come back! You're older and bigger and smarter and cooler and one day you're not going to want me with you any more!"

Dean's shoulders slumped. "No, Sammy." He walked over and pulled his little brother against his chest. "I won't ever leave you. Not for good. I might go off with Dad or go on a date or something, but I won't ever leave you and not come back."

Dean wiped Sammy's face with the hem of his shirt, and then herded him back to the Pontiac. "Come on. Dad's gonna wonder what's taking us so long."

That night, in a motel room just like all the other motel rooms they ever stayed in, Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's neck in the dark and whispered "Please mean it. Please don't leave me, Dean."

"I promise, Sammy." Dean whispered back.

Seven years later, Dean watched the Greyhound bus drive away toward California and he remembered the Harley behind the Eckerd Drugs, even if he didn't remember what town that had been.

He never thought he'd be the one left behind.

* * *

A/N - I am in no way, shape, or form condoning any illegal or criminal activity, and it is not my intention to teach anyone how to commit a crime. That's what we have the internet for.


End file.
